


My First Kiss (Went A Little Like This)

by oddishly



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddishly/pseuds/oddishly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse didn't expect their first kiss to go like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My First Kiss (Went A Little Like This)

Jesse flies into England on a Wednesday. “Welcome to England!” says Andrew. He grabs Jesse’s bags and drops them to the arrivals floor, leaning in close to wrap Jesse up in a hug, then pulls back so they can smile at each other. Jesse has missed this a whole lot.

Andrew grins, and leans in to press a kiss to Jesse’s mouth.

Then he pulls away again, and Jesse does his best not to fall over. “Did you just _kiss_ me?”

Andrew stoops to pick up Jesse’s bags from around them. “I think you should stay forever,” he says, “give me your passport so I can burn it.”

Jesse’s been wrong about stuff like this before. Quite frequently, in fact. “Because that felt like you kissed me. And probably looked like it. I’m just checking. I could be wrong.”

Andrew takes off through the airport, pulling Jesse along beside him. He doesn’t try to catch Jesse’s hand and he isn’t like, bearing flowers or anything, and Jesse has no idea what’s going on until Andrew grins at him again and says, “Yup. Kiss. Welcome to England!”

Which doesn’t really clear things up any, because Andrew’s never kissed him in welcome before. Jesse gives him an approximation of a smile and tells himself to think about something else.

He isn’t really successful, but that’s nothing new.

-

On Thursday, the very first thing Jesse does with his day is save Andrew’s life.

“Sure,” says Jesse, taking his hand off Andrew’s arm now he doesn’t look like he’s going to go clattering down the stairs in nothing but a wet towel. “Falling down these four steps really could have, have given you a bad sprain there.”

“That’s right,” says Andrew, grinning, “my hero.” He pulls back a little as he says it, and bends down so quick that Jesse only realises after the fact that he’s been kissed. Again.

In normal circumstances this is the sort of conversation that Jesse likes to avoid by absenting himself to a different hemisphere. “Um – Andrew –”

“Customary reward for the services rendered,” Andrew informs him. He pulls Jesse in with an arm around his shoulder, then lets him go again. “Thanks for saving my life, Jesse.”

“No problem,” Jesse says, resisting the urge to lick his lips. Mostly. “Anything for a friend.”

Andrew tips an imaginary hat his way.

-

On Friday, Jesse barely makes it into the kitchen in the morning before Andrew’s leaning around the table to press their lips together. He feels the fleeting wetness of Andrew’s tongue at the corner of his mouth and absolutely fails to stop a warm noise escaping from his throat, and then both Andrew and his tongue are gone.

“Good morning,” Jesse manages.

Andrew sits back down on his side of the table again without anything more than a sleepy-eyed smile at Jesse across the top of his coffee. Jesse allots himself exactly five seconds to stare when Andrew opens his mouth to reply and yawns instead, arms reaching for the corners of the room and eyes scrunched closed, and then he says, “What was that for?”

Andrew halts mid-yawn. He leaves his hands hanging in the air like he’s forgotten about them, and Jesse tells himself very firmly to keep his eyes level. “This?”

“No, uh –” Jesse goes to reach across the table then thinks better of it, and presses the tip of his index finger to his own mouth. Andrew’s eyes flick down. “That.”

“Oh.” Andrew drops his hands. “You had toothpaste, you know, I was getting it off for you.”

“Right,” says Jesse once Andrew is safely hidden in his yawn again. “Um. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Andrew tells him absently.

-

On Saturday, Andrew falls down the stairs _again_ , giving Jesse another opportunity to save his life, this time by providing lots of cushioning for Andrew to fall on. Namely himself.

“He fell on your lips,” Emma says slowly on the other end of the phone.

Jesse doesn’t really know how to come back to any single one of the responses he can hear in her voice and he definitely doesn’t want to analyse why he feels so defensive all of a sudden, so he just shrugs at himself in the bathroom mirror. “Yup.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing,” says Jesse. “He made me watch a movie and I fell asleep on the couch, I guess.” He waits a moment then says, “Emma?”

“Okay, Jesse,” she sighs, and moves the conversation along before Jesse can reply.

-

On Sunday they go a whole day without any contact occurring between Jesse’s mouth and Andrew’s. Jesse isn’t sure how he feels about the fact that Andrew’s kisses have somehow become so central to his day that he finds it distracting not to be kissed. They sprawl around the house reading lines and drinking hot chocolate, because the rain is pouring and neither of them ever gets much opportunity to lie around in pyjamas, and Jesse spends the whole of it despairing at himself for what his priorities have become. He rolls his lip under his teeth, trying to work out how early is too early to sleep his mood off.

Not now, is the best answer he can come up with, which is pretty indicative of his state of mind right now.

“Hey,” says Andrew from the floor, just loud enough to disturb Jesse from his moping. _Moping_ , oh god. “You all right?”

“I’m great,” Jesse tells him. He waves his newly-highlighted script at Andrew. “Really great.”

“You seem nervous.”

“No, I – do I?”

“You’ve been biting your lip like that all afternoon, doesn’t it hurt?”

Jesse shrugs. “Not really. Or, um, I guess, but – it’s okay. I didn’t notice.” Which is true, because his lips are always sore. Jesse tends to think of it as a natural consequence of constantly putting your foot in your mouth.

Andrew frowns. Before Jesse really knows what’s happening, he vaults himself across the coffee table between them and takes Jesse’s head in his hands, fingers sinking into his hair and tipping his chin up so they’re looking each other in the eye. “Hey,” he says, and lowers his head to kiss Jesse’s mouth.

Jesse doesn’t move. Just kisses Andrew back as lightly as Andrew is kissing him, fingertips curled into the very bottom of Andrew’s pyjama pants. When Andrew opens his mouth to tongue at Jesse’s lip, Jesse closes his eyes and lets him.

“Better?” Andrew murmurs. He’s so close that Jesse can feel his breath playing across the tender skin.

He tightens his fingers, the back of his hand brushing against Andrew’s ankle. “Yeah,” he says.

-

On Monday, on their own in a tiny backstreet cafe, Jesse almost manages to convince himself that he’s not surprised when Andrew leans in a second time to slip his tongue between Jesse’s lips. “It’s just really good icecream,” Andrew says when he returns to his own side of the table, nodding at the dish in front of Jesse. He pulls his chair a little closer and knocks their knees together. Jesse presses back. “Isn't it?”

Jesse runs his tongue across his lips. “Yeah,” he says, barely tasting it.

-

On Tuesday, the day before they’re both due to get on a plane back to New York, Jesse looks up to see Andrew hovering in the doorway. He’s got the same look on his face as Jesse’s been trying to decipher the whole week. Jesse isn’t ready to stop working it out yet.

Andrew comes into the room. “I didn’t know people really did that,” he says. “Sit on suitcases to close them. Do people do that? You look like you need help, probably because you don’t weigh anything, you weigh minus numbers, Jesse, would you like me to help sit on your suitcase?”

Jesse wants to sit on suitcases with Andrew every single day for the rest of their lives. He lets himself lean in closer than he could possibly pretend to need to, the long line of Andrew’s body warm against his own, and for the first time all week isn’t the tiniest bit surprised when Andrew leans just a little bit too close and presses their mouths together. He drops his hand on top of Andrew’s leg without really thinking about it, smiling when Andrew’s mouth directs him to.

“Let me guess,” he says when Andrew pulls back. “You swooned and hit my lips.”

Andrew grins. “Close,” he says. “I was aiming for your cheek but I missed.” He lifts his hand to Jesse’s face, brushing his thumb over the blush Jesse can feel reddening his skin. “Heat of the moment.”

-

On their last day in England, Jesse really has no idea where it happens or when, and he can’t think of a single thing he wants to say that isn’t _do it again._

Andrew does it again anyway.

“Was that an accident as well?” Jesse asks a minute later. He keeps his hand on Andrew’s neck to keep him close just in case he says yes and Jesse needs to knock him to the ground to get another kiss out of him. Andrew’s the kind of stupidly bendy that it’ll probably be Jesse that ends up on the floor if it comes to that, which is pretty normal anyway, witness Jesse’s two left feet and mortifying inability to pay attention to where he’s walking instead of everything Andrew, but uh. He lets go.

Andrew’s lips curve. He catches Jesse’s hand as it drops and puts it back right where it was on his neck. Without really thinking about it, Jesse slides it further up, cupping the back of Andrew’s head and pushing his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s too nervous to look at Andrew’s face but he can keep his eyes on his own thumb running over the shell of Andrew’s ear, the way he’s tilting his head into Jesse’s hand.

“No,” says Andrew.

“No, what?”

“No, that time wasn’t an accident.”

Jesse has just enough time to drag his gaze to Andrew’s and register the crinkles in the corner of his eyes, half-heartedly trying to stop himself from thinking about how much he wants to be able to kiss every line one day when they’ve both gotten old, and then Andrew leans in close enough to whisper against his lips, “Stopping was.”

This time, Jesse doesn’t give him a chance to.

-


End file.
